


Soul At Ease

by el3anorrigby



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: Disgusting Pile of Fluff, Idiots in Love, Light Angst, M/M, Silly Boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-09-28 11:48:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10099274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/el3anorrigby/pseuds/el3anorrigby
Summary: Napoleon looks content. There’s even a playful grin lighting up his face. How could Illya say no to this man?





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bryonyashley](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bryonyashley/gifts).



> You give love, you get love.

“You want to come around to my place when we get home?” 

Napoleon’s voice pulls Illya out of his reverie.

They are waiting for their flight in Munich airport, ready to leave after another grueling mission, and all Illya really wants to do once they reach London is rest. But Napoleon’s invitation is tempting. He doesn’t answer, though, just looks at his partner who is sitting beside him with wary eyes.

“Since you’re not saying no, I’ll take that as a yes?” 

Napoleon looks content. There’s even a playful grin lighting up his face. How could Illya say no to this man? But he’s still unsure. 

“Is this a good idea?”

At Illya’s hesitant question, something deflates in Napoleon. He knows what’s troubling the Russian. 

“But of course, we don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to,” he says while getting up on his feet.

Hearing that, Illya sucks in a breath. Of course, he wants whatever Napoleon offers him. But that niggling feeling he can’t shake off; the fear that Napoleon might be taken away from him in a blink of an eye, holds him back every time he wants more. When things first started between them, he thought it’s just a case of two guys blowing off steam. That it might just be a fling.

But the only thing is, this _'fling'_ has lasted for six amazing months and Illya realises they both silently know it’s so much more than that now. He gets up and puts a hand on Napoleon’s shoulder, stops him when he starts walking towards the departure gate.

“I’m sorry,” he says gently. Napoleon only shakes his head. 

“Don’t be. It’s all right.”

Napoleon forces a weak smile that only makes Illya want to pull him into a hug, but he can’t. Not here at the airport, as they are about to board. 

_I’m just afraid of losing what we have, Cowboy_ , he thinks silently as he watches Napoleon hand over his passport and boarding card to the air hostess.

Later, they sit down next to each other again on the plane, with Napoleon taking the window seat. And not caring who might notice, Illya takes Napoleon’s hand in his once they’re in the air.

“Peril?” 

Wordlessly, Illya leans in and presses a soft kiss to Napoleon’s cheek. 

“I hope your invitation is still open.” 

Napoleon tilts his head at Illya. “Always is.” 

“Then I want to come over to your place,” Illya murmurs in his ear as Napoleon looks at him, concern vivid in his blue eyes. 

“You sure?” 

“Yes. Sorry about earlier. Maybe sometimes, I think too much.”

With a hand on his neck, Napoleon forces Illya to look at him.

“It’s great that you’re always thinking about us.” 

Without giving it thought, he pulls Illya closer and brushes his lips against his, softly, almost timid at first, before Illya takes charge and forces him to part his lips, deepening the kiss urgently. As their tongues slide tentatively against each other, Illya is very happy that they are sitting at the very back of the plane. Not that he cares about who might see them, but he really doesn’t want to be disturbed. 

Not now.

Not as he feels the racing pulse under his hand on Napoleon’s neck. 

Not as he feels the sudden desperation in every one of Napoleon’s movements. 

Not as he feels the way Napoleon is trying to bring all his thoughts and feelings to life. The way he tries to show Illya exactly what he means to him. The way he desperately tries to transfer all the words he wants to say aloud, but can’t. 

Because they are too scary, too important, too serious.

_You are the one constant in my life._

_I’ll break without you._

_I love you._

_Please, believe me._

Illya pulls away slightly, only to place a kiss on Napoleon’s neck. A soft, lingering kiss, trying to calm down the chaos he knows is wrecking havoc in the other man’s mind.

“Illya, I…”

“You don’t need to say anything, Cowboy. I know.”

Slowly, he leans his forehead against Napoleon’s, their breath mingling, mutters, “there's nothing we can hide from each other. We know the other too well, yes?” 

Napoleon nods slightly. 

"I know sometimes things can be difficult and confusing. I know sometimes you want to run away from all of it, from _us_ , but you stay because we’re good together. Even from the first time in Istanbul.”

“You mean Rome,” Illya corrects him, a serious look on his face making Napoleon laugh.

“Yes, of course, it’s Rome.”

The tension has completely left them and Illya pulls back slightly so he could look deeply into Napoleon’s eyes, making sure his message gets across. 

“I will _never_ leave you.”

As he gently brushes his lips against Napoleon’s again, he can feel the other man relaxing under his hands, letting out a deep sigh of relief.

“This is a promise,” he whispers against him and is answered with demanding lips on his, the sincere gratitude leaving him absolutely breathless and he doesn’t regret anything he has ever done for this man.

And even if his fears may never leave him, he knows where he has got Napoleon. And Napoleon just needs a reminder of where he has Illya. Right in his heart. And as the blue sky outside darkens, he falls asleep on Napoleon’s shoulder, their entwined hands never letting go of the other.

**Author's Note:**

> Just some ridiculous fluff I wrote because of Tumblr. That's it, that's all there is. I hope you like it. :) Mistakes are all mine. 
> 
> And of course, kudos & comments always make my day. <3


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